Teenage Wasteland

[BlackAkuma]

Angela found herself, once more, in LAW’s training facility, standing in the middle of the ring, doing some light stretching. She wore her black jogging pants and matching sports bra, a common combo for days like this, and she found herself looking out over the gym as she limbered up. It always heartened her to see so many younger women working around her, training and pushing their bodies to the limit. Faint memories of herself at that age.

This was a familiar environment. The smell of sweat and iron, clicking weights and running treadmills. It was her home away from home, and only one thing made it different from her typical experiences: Dizzy wasn’t here.

When they first came to Japan, Angela often dragged her daughter here for training sessions, preparing her for in-ring action. They would spend hours doing drills, perfecting her techniques, and preparing her for competition, and even though Dizzy would often complain, she’d soldier through like Angela knew she could. Despite the kvetching, she would cherish those times together - just her and her daughter, together. Building. Training. Improving.

Loving.

But moments like those weren’t meant to last. In recent months, she and Dizzy had come to an understanding. She was growing older and needed space, so Angela did her best to give it to her. She suspected she would move out of their apartment, sooner rather than later. She was becoming an adult, and that meant doing more adult things. Things that didn't involve her mother.

It was what it was, and she was trying not to let it get to her. But the absence of Dizzy was creating a hole in Angela’s life, one that she was eager to fill, and she’d decided that the Young Lioness program was a good substitute. She believed she still had much to offer the new generation of wrestlers. Management agreed, assigning her an incoming rookie to evaluate, and that was why she was here, waiting in the training ring for her ‘student’ to show up. They hadn't met before, but she’d been told the name: Talia Vega. A former boxer, apparently, who hadn't done too well with that and was looking to try her luck in the squared circle.

Not an uncommon scenario, but Angela knew those types had a way of burning out fast when things didn’t go their way. Maybe Talia was like that, maybe she wasn’t. Either way, they would find out shortly.

[BuggyD501]

The rhythmic thudding of fists against the heavy bag echoed through the gym, each impact sending a ripple through the dense material. Talia Vega didn’t hold back. She never did. Every punch she threw carried weight—force backed by years of discipline, frustration, and an innate hunger that never seemed to be satisfied.

Bam. Bam. Bam.

Her knuckles dug deep into the bag’s surface, sweat rolling down her temple and mixing with the heat of exertion. She pivoted on the ball of her foot, her core twisting sharply as she threw in a hard right hook, then followed it with a sharp knee strike. Her breath came in controlled huffs, her chest rising and falling steadily, even as she kept the rhythm going.

Boxing had been her foundation, but she wasn’t just a boxer anymore. Not anymore. If she wanted to make it here, in this world, she had to evolve. That meant bringing more to the table—more than just fists, more than just what she’d known before.

So, she worked. She worked her body into exhaustion, burned through muscle fatigue, and silenced the doubts that tried to creep in between each strike. Her shin slammed against the bag with a powerful roundhouse, the impact reverberating up her leg.

Finally, she stopped.

Talia stepped back, rolling her shoulders, shaking out her arms to loosen them up. Her breathing was heavy, but controlled. Always controlled. She reached for her water bottle sitting on the bench nearby, unscrewed the cap, and took a long drink, letting the cold liquid run down her throat.

That’s when she saw her.

Angela.

The woman stood in the center of the training ring, stretching, her presence casual but commanding. It wasn’t just her stance, or her build, or even the way she moved. It was something in her eyes. Talia had seen women like her before—women who had been through it, who carried the weight of their experiences like second skin. Angela was someone who knew what the grind was, someone who had walked through fire and came out the other side still standing.

That meant she was someone worth paying attention to.

Talia capped her water bottle and approached, each step measured and steady. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Just movement. When she reached the to where she was, she stepped up and extended her hand, her grip firm but not forceful. A proper handshake, one meant for respect, not intimidation.

Her face remained blank, unreadable. Talia wasn’t one for grand gestures or unnecessary words. If Angela was expecting some bright-eyed rookie eager to prove herself with empty chatter, she’d be disappointed.

“Talia Vega,” she said simply, her voice steady, low.

Nothing else needed to be said. Not yet.

Whatever this was, whatever this would be—they’d figure it out in the ring.

[BlackAkuma]

Angela spotted the woman she would, in a moment, learn was Talia as she approached the ring, coming from the bags. Partly because she was looking out for her, since she had nothing much else to do with her time aside from the occasional checking of her phone. Mostly, though, she noticed the woman straightaway because she stood out from the others who’d entered the room. Not just because she had silver hair.

She’d seen enough rookies - and been one herself, back when dinosaurs roamed the Earth - so she knew what to look out for when it came to them. Wrestling had a way of drawing in the eccentric and the eclectic, and they would come in with bright eyes, brimming with energy, spewing all these crazy ideas about the way their careers would go.

Before she said a single word, Angela could tell Talia was not like that. There was a purpose to her movement and a focus in her face that you simply didn’t see with wrestlers her age.

Interesting. She could work with that.

Talia made her way in and extended her hand for the shake, which Angela promptly accepted. She put some force into her grip. Not enough to seriously hurt, but enough to show that she, too, meant business. A small test.

”Angela Belti. A pleasure meeting you, Talia.” She stepped back and put her hands on her hips as she looked the woman over, a silent assessment. Fit. Strong. She could believe she’d been a boxer, even if only briefly. Short, not much taller than her daughter, but with a packed physique.

After a moment, she nodded and brought her gaze up to meet Talia’s. ”We’ll start in a moment. Before that, though, tell me, if it’s not too personal - you had a history in boxing, correct? A career there. Why the switch? Why do you think professional wrestling will be different?”

She asked out of curiosity, but also to get a sense of where Talia’s mind was at, what she hoped to get out of LAW, a way to gauge where they needed to start.

[BuggyD501]

Talia stayed silent for a moment, her grip firm in Angela’s hand before she slowly released it. Her gaze shifted downward, her expression remaining unreadable, but something in her posture shifted—her shoulders tensed just slightly, her jaw tightening as if holding something back. It wasn’t Angela’s presence that unsettled her, nor was it the weight of the moment. It was the question.

Why was she here?

She knew the answer, but saying it out loud made it real. It forced her to acknowledge something she had spent so long trying to push down.

Finally, she spoke. Her voice wasn’t weak, but there was an edge of bitterness, frustration simmering beneath her calm tone.

“...Being honest, ma’am, I would lose fights. A lot more than I would win them. It was embarrassing. Having your passion, and only to realize you weren’t good enough.”

She exhaled sharply through her nose, shaking her head slightly, as if she hated even admitting it. Talia wasn’t one to dwell on her failures—at least, that’s what she told herself. But she could still remember the sting of every loss, the frustration of falling short, the humiliation of putting everything she had into something only to come up short. Again. And again. And again.

She had loved boxing. It had been her life. But the ring didn’t love her back the way she wanted it to. No matter how hard she trained, no matter how much she pushed herself, she never reached the heights she had dreamed of. That failure sat with her, weighed on her like an anchor, even as she stood here trying to move forward.

But she wasn’t broken. Not completely.

Talia lifted her head and met Angela’s gaze, and this time, her eyes carried something more. A spark. Determination. She wasn’t here to wallow in what she had lost—she was here to build something new.

“So, I’m here to figure out my own style, ma’am. To... figure myself out.”

Her words weren’t filled with false bravado. There was no overconfidence, no attempt to puff herself up. Just honesty. She didn’t have all the answers, and she wasn’t afraid to admit it.

But she was ready to find them.

[BlackAkuma]

Angela didn’t know what answer she would get with that question, but she knew the type she expected. She had met a few crossovers like this before, and more often than not, their motivations boiled down to simple things. Maybe they’d been kicked out of the boxing leagues because of bad behavior, or maybe they’d had a string of losses and figured pro wrestling - with its laxer rules and loose officiating - would be easier. With LAW. She was ready to be told that Talia wanted to fight with the absolute best, that she was looking to challenge herself.

And there was always the possibility that she was just here to wrestle other scantily clad women, like a certain daughter Angela knew. Thankfully, Talia seemed to have her head screwed on a little tighter.

Instead, she gave her a brief, but honest answer. There was some regret in those eyes, as she recanted her time with boxing, and Angela could only imagine what it was like to dedicate yourself to something like that and find out it just wasn’t your thing. But there was determination in those eyes, as well. This wasn’t some weekend dalliance for Talia, no - she was here to make this work.

Good. Very good. Also, Angela liked that respectful tone, always refreshing from the younger generation. She even used her favorite word in the English language: ‘Ma’am’.

Angela took a moment to digest her words, then nodded. ”Figuring yourself out, hm? I can relate.” It wasn’t quite the same thing, but there was a point in Angela’s life when she thought bodybuilding would be her sole focus. Life could take a wild turn. ”Let’s see if I can help with that, shall we?”

Angela stepped back to the far corner of the ring, where her gym bag waited. She dipped down, sifted through it, and brought out a couple of sparring gloves, which she proceeded to slip on as she returned. ”Let’s see what you have, then we can work on what you’re missing.” She stood at the center of the ring and leaned forward into a loose grappling stance. ”Come at me like this is your first match. You need to get me down, you need to pin me for three seconds.” Angela beckoned her on with a quick hand wave. ”Go.”

[BuggyD501]

Talia gave a short nod, stepping forward with quiet confidence. She didn’t say much—she never did. Her actions spoke louder than words, and right now, she had something to prove. Not to Angela. Not to anyone else in this gym.

To herself.

Her footwork was light, almost effortless as she began circling Angela, eyes locked on her target with the kind of focus that only came from years of conditioning. Despite her history of losses, Talia’s movements were sharp, precise. She wasn’t some rookie blindly throwing punches. She had technique—raw, unpolished, but it was there.

Her fists rose into that familiar boxing stance, elbows tucked, chin low. Instinct told her to analyze her opponent's movements, look for an opening, and strike fast. That was her world. The ring. The fight.

But this wasn’t boxing anymore.

This was wrestling.

She pushed the thought aside for now. One step at a time.

With quick footwork, Talia darted to the side and closed the distance, throwing a sharp jab aimed for Angela’s guard. Her speed was undeniable, her punch snapping forward with practiced precision.

[BlackAkuma]

Angela was not a boxer.

She’d briefly considered going during her bodybuilding days, and was even approached by a couple of trainers. She had the size, height, strength, and stamina to excel in the sport, but it had never much appealed to her, and she wound up gravitating towards the more entertainment-focused ring of wrestling, which suited her in ways the sweet science never could. She had no regrets.

But she had faced more than a few strikers in her time, wrestlers who came from other combat arenas and brought their skills with them. She knew how to hang.

More importantly, she knew enough to recognize Talia’s skill as she went into motion, dancing around the ring with a focused grace that could only come from serious experience. She was a difficult target to track, never staying on the center line, and never letting Angela lock her down for too long, even with her high vantage point. A strike would be coming soon, but from what direction?

Ah. There.

Angela tightened her guard up as the fist slap against it. Crisp. Quick. Biting. It left her forearm stinging. ”Good, good.” She backed away, urging Talia to keep up after her. ”Keep it up, keep the pressure. Wrestlers fight above their weight class all the time, you don’t want someone my size dictating the pace.” She threw out a blow of her own as she retreated to keep Talia on her toes, a right cross, slow but powerful.

[BuggyD501]

Talia saw the right cross coming, her sharp instincts kicking in as she ducked just beneath the heavy strike. She felt the air shift as Angela’s fist cut through the space where her head had been just moments before.

Her body reacted on instinct, stepping in close and slipping to Angela’s side, attempting a quick, snapping jab to her ribs. It wasn’t enough to do real damage, but that wasn’t the point. She needed to stay moving. Stay unpredictable.

If she managed to bit her, she would then pivot on her back foot and attempted a swift body shot to Angela’s side, her knuckles digging into the muscle before immediately bouncing back out of Angela’s reach. Her footwork was smooth, flowing like water as she circled around her opponent.

[BlackAkuma]

”Good!”

Angela couldn't help but laugh as Talia ducked under the punch, and she hoped the young woman didn’t take it too personally. It wasn’t out of spite, but from happiness, genuine joy over seeing someone with this drive and focus at her age. If the two of them were the same size, she wouldn’t stand a chance against this sort of speed.

But she had the size to work with, a big advantage, and one Talia would need to get used to - management loved putting newer wrestlers up against the bigger, most dangerous woman they could find, hoping for a sensual squash. Talia should get her first taste of something like this here than in the actual ring, in a real match.

Talia took her words to heart and kept moving, lashing out with a jab. That didn’t hurt so much, but the followup was better, a stiff body shot that went deep inton Angela’s core, even made her take a step back. Too many of those would take a toll.

Still, she was smiling. Everything she saw so far was impressive, a good foundation to build on.

She kept track of Talia as she moved around, keeping pace with her as best as she could. When the woman came in again, she moved out to meet her with open arms, attempting to run over whatever offense was coming her way and force her foe into a collar-and-elbow tie-up, making her grapple whether she wanted to or not, wanting to take her outside of her comfort zone.

[BuggyD501]

Talia’s breath was steady, but her mind was racing, processing everything that had happened in such a short time. She could feel the heat building in her chest from the combination of exertion and the rush of adrenaline. Every time she threw a punch, every time she moved—she felt like she was testing the boundaries of her own strength, pushing herself further than she ever had before.

She watched Angela, tracking her movements like a predator eyeing its prey. Angela was fast, but Talia was faster, at least for now. The jab had been solid, but it wasn’t enough. The body shot, however, had definitely connected. The moment her fist dug into Angela’s core, she saw the subtle shift in the older woman’s stance—she’d backed off, just slightly, acknowledging the hit. That made Talia’s pulse race with a sense of accomplishment.

But before she could get comfortable, she saw Angela move—faster than expected. Talia’s instincts kicked in, but Angela was already closing the gap, open arms ready to pull her into a grapple.

Talia’s first instinct was to resist, to stay mobile, to keep fighting on her feet. But then she realized... it wasn’t up to her anymore. Angela was stronger, faster, and she was closing in too fast. Before Talia could fully react, she found herself caught—her arms locked in a collar-and-elbow tie-up.

For a moment, her breath caught in her throat. Her face flushed as she felt Angela's grip tightening around her, pulling them closer together. It wasn’t the fight anymore—it was this. The feeling of being locked in a struggle so intimate, so close. Talia’s heart beat faster, not from the pressure of the grapple but from the proximity.

She couldn’t help it. Her cheeks burned. This wasn’t the plan...

For a split second, Talia hesitated. It felt like everything around her was rushing—her heart, the sweat trickling down her forehead, the way Angela’s body pressed against hers. A feeling of warmth flooded her chest. She’d been in fights before, sure, but never like this. Never so... close. The heat from Angela’s body was something she hadn’t anticipated. The way their bodies aligned in the grapple—Talia’s mind short-circuited for a brief moment, and her grip on Angela’s arms faltered just slightly.

Her breath hitched. Focus. Focus, Talia, she told herself, but it was harder than it seemed. The closeness was almost dizzying. The way she could feel Angela’s muscle through the fabric of their training gear—how she could practically feel her pulse thudding in time with her own.

Talia quickly pulled herself together, shaking off the momentary blush that had crept up on her. She couldn’t afford distractions, not now, not in this ring. She’d worked too hard to get here to let something like this throw her off her game.

But as they struggled, Talia realized she’d have to adapt. There was no running from this. No more trying to stay on the outside. This was the real test—fighting up close, in the clinch, where strength wasn’t just a matter of power but technique, balance, and control.

Talia swallowed her nervousness, pushing her body into the grapple once more, her heart still racing but this time with focus. She wasn’t just here to fight. She was here to learn. And maybe... maybe this was part of the lesson too.